


i didn't know that i was starving (til i tasted you)

by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: But Twy and Alexis are meant to be each other's soft girlfriends, Character Study: Alexis Rose, Character Study: Twyla Sands, Episode: s04e12 Singles Week, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Pining, Singles Week Rewrite, Ted is great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland/pseuds/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland
Summary: Twyla knows her natural penchant for kindness can sometimes be a problem. She knows it can sometimes be used against her by people who are more willing to chase their desires than she is.Normally, she’s at least a little ok with being naturally passive, with allowing her desires, her wants, to skate past her, untouched.Maybe it’s because she’s gotten accustomed to serving people at Cafe Tropical and taking unwarranted abuse with a fake smile. Maybe it’s because she had to grow up faster than any eight or nine year old should. Maybe it’s because, well, she’s secretly a multi-millionaire and, materially, she doesn’t want for much of anything. And she’d be hard pressed to say she really wants anyone in Schitt’s Creek.But once she gets to know Alexis Rose?Yeah, Twyla wants her.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Comments: 17
Kudos: 67





	i didn't know that i was starving (til i tasted you)

Twyla Sands doesn't know when exactly she starts thinking of pursuing Alexis Rose.

She can track their transition from a strictly employee/customer relationship (which had included a few too many instances of Alexis pelting her in the back with baked goods to get her attention) to acquaintances pretty easily. That happened about two or three weeks after Alexis had established herself as a regular on mid-morning shifts, often stopping in for a Harvest Meadow smoothie after her runs around town.

And if Twyla sometimes gazed a second too long at Alexis' figure as she left, well, it was only because the woman sometimes wore workout leggings with pink seahorses on them, amongst other off-the-wall, high-end athletic gear.

And she can pinpoint, more or less, when they'd cemented their friendship. Weirdly enough, it was just after Alexis had convinced her to break up with Mutt. Twyla's not all that prone to embarrassment, considering she's had to sort through the fallout of at least 3 cousins getting caught shoplifting from Walmart, among other Sands family indignities. But writing a soul-baring song for a guy who'd been on the verge of breaking up with her? That would've been a much more intensely personal kind of humiliation, and Alexis had saved her from it.

Their friendship had blossomed from there in fits and starts (even if, objectively, it _was_ shitty of Alexis to start dating Mutt almost immediately after he and Twyla had split). Although Twyla had registered a pang of jealousy, low in her gut, when she first saw the two of them kissing on one of her own mid-morning runs—no one in Schitt's Creek besides Alexis would wear a big straw hat or a fancy shirt-dress with neon geometric shapes on it during a regular old Friday—she still got along with the eccentric socialite pretty well.

Twyla didn't think much of that jealous twinge, despite the fact that she was rarely, if ever, envious of other people in relationships. The town's young adult population was small and homogenous enough that Twyla had already at least made out with nearly everyone worth kissing. As for those folks whom she hadn't kissed? Well, she had good reason for avoiding them. Twyla just chalked up her feelings at the time to a small, residual pain from the end of her relationship with Mutt.

But when that unexpected knife twist slashes through her core at the sight of Alexis and Ted exchanging an awkward kiss a couple of years later, just outside the cafe's front entrance, it brings with it a stunningly soft, yet still devastating, realization.

A realization that causes Twyla to fumble a customer's change, a realization that makes her go, _Oh._

She hadn't wanted Mutt when she'd spotted him kissing Alexis so long ago.

She'd wanted to _be_ him.

And right now, she wants to be Ted.

Because she wants to kiss Alexis Rose, wants to tangle her fingers in long tresses of golden blonde hair.

Luckily, Twyla's not carrying any coffees as this revelation continues rattling around in her brain like the loose change in her jeans pockets, and spilling a couple of waters is practically a non-event at Cafe Tropical.

"You ok there, babe?" Alexis asks a few seconds after she steps into the cafe.

Her voice breaks Twyla out of her reverie, but the unexpected flash of eye contact makes her nearly freeze for a second before she gives a breathy laugh, nodding because her voice is caught in her throat and she swears the entire cafe can hear her heart pounding.

"I'm fine, Alexis, thanks," she manages to answer before blocking off the water spill with some chairs—fortunately, it's only a few minutes past 11:00, and there's always a pretty significant lull between breakfast and lunch—and dashing to the back to retrieve a handful of paper towels.

" _I'm fine other than the fact that, somewhere along the way, I toppled head over heels for you and didn't even notice it,"_ she thinks despairingly.

Sure, she and Alexis have become much better friends since when the crazy Rose clan first arrived in town, but she hadn't thought her feelings ran that deep. Sure, Twyla can admit Alexis possesses charm in spades, but she's also enough of an oddball to not be totally out of place in the zany world of Schitt's Creek. Plus, she's sweeter and more caring than most people give her credit for (even if those traits sometimes manifest themselves in a bit of a frenzied, messy way), and, _duh,_ she's stunningly gorgeous even without her designer makeup and America's Next Top Model wardrobe and…

" _Someone's in trouble,"_ Twyla murmurs wryly to herself as she finishes cleaning up the mess.

It's been a long time since anyone's caught her attention like this. Even her minor infatuation with Mutt had evaporated pretty quickly, and looking back on it, Mutt hadn't been a crush so much as the third beer of the night at a bonfire. Not the first drink that provides the initial relief from sobriety, nor the second that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. No, Twyla got with him because he was there and easy to enjoy, and because she didn't really have anything better to do at the time. They liked each other fine—still do, honestly—but they'd harbored no real illusions about a grand attraction.

Alexis, on the other hand...she's got Twyla daydreaming like she did about Chloe Barnes, her favorite teammate on the girls' soccer team at Schitt's Creek High School and one of her best friends, back in the day. Also, her first ever girl crush, and the first girl Twyla ever kissed.

She shouldn't feel that way now, a couple years past thirty. But there's something about Alexis, maybe all of her crazy stories, delivered ever so nonchalantly, as if every red-blooded twenty-something has helped dismantle a Central America diamond-smuggling ring here or there, that makes Twyla long for an experience with someone in town that doesn't follow the standard Schitt's Creek plot. AKA, meet at a bonfire or a bar, drink, hook up, and repeat that cycle once or twice more before beginning the rote story anew with someone else she's known for too many years. She thinks maybe, just maybe, Alexis could deliver something...more.

" _After all, she certainly knows how to engage with people she's interested in, based on that one time we sort of traded dating tips,"_ Twyla reflects.

Although, truthfully, it was more like Alexis doled out pointers while Twyla focused on remembering how to breathe.

**

"I just walk in a room where guys are. And, um, yeah," Alexis remarked with a witty grin, her hands tapping on the table, as if she was letting Twyla in on a great secret of the dating universe via morse code. "What's your trick for getting guys, Twy?"

"Well, mine's based on the idea that food is the way to a man's heart," she started confidently. "So if a guy comes into the cafe, I'll walk over to his table and say, what would you like to eat? And whatever he says, I'll go, that's a really good choice." She offered Alexis what felt like a winning smile.

Alexis stared past her for a second before lifting her eyebrows with the slightest incredulity and responding, "And that _works_?"

Twyla started to nod, then realized, "No, it hasn't yet, but, um—"

Alexis interrupted, not unkindly, "Let me show you how to really...get results. I'm gonna be the guy and I'll just," she flung her pointer finger in Twyla's direction, "come up to you."

"Okay," Twyla agreed amicably. "Cool!"

"Okay," Alexis replied, nodding to herself a couple of times before getting up to roleplay.

She slowly sauntered over to their booth, tossed her hair back, and narrowed her eyes in a slightly predatorial way before saying, "Hey."

"Hey. How are you?" Twyla asked. Alexis responded with a "shh" and placed a finger to her lips to silence her. Twyla silently gawked at the surprisingly sinewy muscle in Alexis' extended arm as she swallowed a high-pitched squeak of intrigue. And maybe fear.

"I just wanted to let you know, I've been watching you all night. And you are looking _so_ fine," Alexis murmured, offering Twyla a wink while sipping on her smoothie and staring her down in a way that was somehow both objectifying and intoxicating, leaving the waitress hoping she wouldn't melt into a puddle on the booth. Alexis continued, in that sultry, husky tone, "And I would like nothing more than to get a drink with you."

Twyla swallowed hard, desperately trying to ignore the coil of desire that was unspooling in her stomach and threatening to short-circuit her mind even further.

She half-laughed, half-gasped and, while looking away from Alexis' still-smoldering gaze, answered earnestly, in a half-choked voice, "Wow! That was really good!"

**

Twyla's own attempt at flirting with Alexis that day had been an abject disaster, so she's hoping she has the element of surprise on her side this time.

She takes the tiniest shot possible, using the Jack Daniels bottle cap as her glass, to screw her courage to the sticking point. Or, more accurately, to the chair sitting across from Alexis. To no one's surprise, it's an immensely popular spot in the speed dating game Alexis designed as one of the main Singles Week attractions. However, Twyla leverages her power as food and drink deliverer and order-taker to linger in the aisle between the men and the women before gracefully twirling and settling in the seat across from Alexis.

"What are you doing, Twy?" Alexis giggles. Her eyes and nose crinkle the tiniest bit in confusion and _God,_ it is patently unfair that this woman can be so effortlessly beautiful.

She shrugs, tries to return her own fun smile as if nothing's amiss. "Just wanted to chat with you for a sec." Amidst the din of others' eager conversations, Twyla leans forward and whispers, "Plus, I figured you could use a little break from guys ogling you."

Alexis reaches out for her hand unerringly, gives it a light squeeze, and murmurs back, "Girl. Yes. Thank you."

More to keep from mimicking said gross male gaze than anything else, Twyla quickly asks, "What's the best first date you've ever been on?"

"Ooh, good question! Um, so one of Rupert Grint's friends took me to this a- _dor_ -able little print shop just outside London once…" she begins, and, as usual, the story zigs and zags for a while and Twyla struggles a little to keep up until she registers Alexis is asking her a question in return.

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering, what's your ideal first date? Like, for going out around here?" Alexis repeats.

Twyla's got the first part of her response down, easily. "I'd say going to P.J.'s in Elmdale for homemade ice cream or milkshakes—even in the winter, it's totally worth the drive. And then exploring their library. I always like getting to know someone better based on their literary taste."

"Cool. That sounds like it'd be nice," Alexis comments with one of her genuine smiles (with the number of suitors she gets at the cafe and around town, Twyla's had plenty of practice at cataloging its different permutations, and she's thrilled to be rewarded with the real one).

"Yeah," Twyla nods, both in response and to steel herself as Alexis checks her stopwatch; there's maybe ten seconds left for them to chat when she adds, as casually as possible, "Oh, you know what else would be part of my ideal first date?"

"What's that, hon?" Alexis asks, expressive eyebrows lifting in curiosity.

"Going on it with you," Twyla answers in a rush, her cheeks burning crimson. Alexis' eyes go wide and she opens and closes her mouth a couple of times without saying anything and Twyla takes what looks like semi-horrified shock as her cue to leave, almost upending her chair in her haste to escape. It takes a couple of extra seconds for Alexis to let off her shrill whistle blast to signal for people on one side of the room to change chairs.

Twyla dashes to the back and takes a healthier slug of Jack this time. She technically shouldn't be drinking on the job, but then again, she shouldn't have just clumsily splattered her guts all over the floor for Alexis, either, and she did, so.

She berates herself for her moment of weakness throughout the rest of the event. They're nowhere close to the same league; Twyla would maybe be a double AA player while Alexis is an MLB superstar.

Twyla's getting the cafe reorganized and cleaned up once everyone eventually clears out. Alexis is still there, though, and Twyla wishes she'd revert to the more selfish person she was a few years ago and just leave rather than help put away the final few chairs.

"Hey, Twyla?" she asks quietly.

Her full name coming off Alexis' lips sounds almost as awkward as she feels, and she figures, _"Might as well get this over with."_

"Listen, Alexis, I'm so sorry I put you on the spot like that with my question earlier. I don't know what I was thinking. Please, just forget I said anything, okay?" Twyla sighs.

"No!"

Alexis' somewhat fierce response startles Twyla, and she looks up, surprised. It seems Alexis has surprised herself, too, as she stammers, "I mean. I don't want to forget. Because I...I want to go on that date with you. To P.J.'s and then Elmdale's library." She presses on, awkwardly, "I just...I hadn't expected that question from you and between that and running the singles week event, I froze. Sorry."

Twyla's waiting for the other shoe to somehow drop, for this to be some weird, convoluted prank, but Alexis just keeps smiling softly and, after a half-minute of silence, prompts her, "What's your work schedule like, say, this weekend, Twy?"

"I'm free Saturday afternoon," she offers shyly. "After 12 or so."

She's rewarded with a massive grin that might cleave Alexis' face clean in half. "Alright, then. I could pick you up around 1 or 1:15?"

"Sure," Twyla breathes as they finish rearranging the last couple chairs.

"Great!" Alexis smiles brightly on her way out the door, flipping her hair and giving Twyla a flirty little wave just before she leaves. "It's a date."

"It's a date," Twyla repeats, nodding and smiling to both Alexis and herself.

She has a date. With Alexis Rose.

It takes everything Twyla has to not spin around and squeal like she's a high schooler again.

She settles for blaring Blink-182's "First Date" on her drive home from the cafe.

**

It's partially due to a busy work schedule for the rest of the week, and partially because of anticipation, but Saturday arrives in great haste, and Twyla's suddenly wishing she could freeze time as she rustles through her closet. She considers going with one of her standard floral dresses, but…no. No, she doesn't want Alexis to conflate work-Twyla and date-Twyla. So she moves along, toward the back of her closet, past her day-to-day wardrobe, until her fingers skim over a dark blue halter top dress with white polka dots that ends just above her knees.

" _It's the kind of outfit that says, I took some time to pick this out to look good, but I'm still keeping things pretty casual since it's a first date,"_ Twyla thinks. It'll highlight the freckles on her shoulders, her collarbones; Alexis has specifically praised these parts of Twyla's body more than once, and Twyla wants her to know she remembers. It's nice, she thinks idly, to not have to select a first date outfit based solely on whether or not it'll make her tits look extra perky.

Twyla can't help but admit to herself, though, that she longs to not just catch Alexis' gaze, but to capture it, with a consumptive hunger that should probably frighten her. So she ties her hair up in a semi-fancy ponytail to keep it off her neck and shoulders. It's hardly risque, but it's more skin than she's shown Alexis before, and Twyla needs to stop imagining her potential reactions to this slightly more put together look because, wow, this is literally just gonna be a chill afternoon out where they go for ice cream and visit a library.

She manages to calm herself down until her doorbell chimes, and she can see through the rippled glass of her front door that it's definitely Alexis, come to pick her up. Twyla's poise goes out the window when she exits her house.

She's noticed Alexis from afar when she's gotten dolled up for dates around town, but she's never seen one of her outfits up close before, and Twyla hopes her quiet, "Hi, Alexis," doesn't convey just how stunned she is at her appearance.

Alexis is wearing one of her oversized straw hats, a seafoam-green, off-the-shoulder blouse with ruffled short sleeves, white denim shorts that show off her trim, toned, impossibly long legs, and brown booties that somehow make even her ankles look attractive.

" _Ah, yes, that classic sign of a casual first date: admiring your date's ankles,"_ Twyla snorts at herself. _"Get it together, girl."_

Still, she must play it off well, or maybe Alexis is a little nervous, too, because her greeting sounds a bit breathless, but then she offers Twyla some unexpected chivalry and opens her car door with a throaty, "Milady," and a regal sweep of her arm (at times, it's incredibly obvious that she's Moira's kin).

In her initial excitement over not getting rejected, Twyla had kind of totally forgotten that she and Alexis would be sharing a forty-minute car ride, like a mini-date before the actual date, and things are a hair awkward after a brief sing-along to "Don't Trust Me" by 3OH!3. Although the forty minute journey is trending much closer to half an hour with how Alexis drives. Twyla's no grandma on the road herself, but she's flexing her feet into the floor as if doing so will get Alexis to slow down.

Alexis must notice her discomfort, because she takes her foot off the gas and trills, "Sorry, Twy. I had to lead a jailbreak for some scientists in Kazakhstan once, years ago. They faked their deaths to get out of the country and I took point on driving the hearse, so I've always gunned it a little bit when I'm piloting black cars since then."

Twyla's not sure where to start in response to this particular Alexis anecdote, but she manages to ask, "Kazakhstan?"

Alexis nods, says, "Yeah," as if she's just talking about going to the grocery store in that casual tone Twyla's kind of grown to love and comments further, "Their government approved the drilling of this massive oil pipeline and the scientists leaked research papers showing it would have _terrible_ effects on the health of nearby residents." She grimaces and takes her hands off the wheel for a second, raising and lowering them as if they're counter-balances. "Which was super noble, don't get me wrong, but, like, was it worth having to go on the run? Anyway, I'd stopped by there for this crazy techno rave…" and Alexis is off on another one of her bonkers stories—she's one of a handful of folks around town who can compete with Twyla in that category, truthfully—and it's like they're back at the cafe, but also they're not, because Twyla doesn't have to worry about getting interrupted by a customer and she's the only one on the receiving end of Alexis' gaze and, ok, all of a sudden, this isn't so difficult or weird anymore.

" _Just two friends getting ice cream,"_ Twyla reminds herself as they walk into the shop. She can't help but grin as she watches Alexis light up at the old-timey bar and high stools, at all the old concert flyers and posters that practically serve as wallpaper for the place. Unlike a lot of stores, houses, and restaurants around Schitt's Creek and Elmdale that are just plain old, P.J.'s has maintained its quaint charm over time.

"This is a super cool little hole in the wall!" Alexis enthuses. "Definitely a nice first date spot, Twy," she adds in approval.

Twyla grins. "And you haven't even seen the ice cream options yet!"

Alexis almost bounds over to the display case, surveying her potential choices. "Ooh, a Take 5 bar inspired ice cream? Peppermint mocha? What inventive flavors!" After about a minute, she decides, "I'll have the brown butter ice cream. One scoop on a sugar cone, please," she informs the bored teen behind the counter.

Twyla shakes her head bemusedly at Alexis' polite request and glances down at the floor to hide her grin. _"How is this the same woman who once threw a muffin at the back of my head to get my attention?"_ she wonders in her head as she orders a scoop of the caramel cookie crunch. Though Alexis had generally been the politest out of all the Roses when they'd first blown into town, that had been a pretty low bar to clear. Lately, she's been channeling the Six of Pentacles with more regularity, managing to maintain patience with the likes of Ronnie, Jocelyn, and Bob (and while Twyla loves them all dearly, she knows that's not always an easy task).

She hasn't been on a proper first date in ages, and even though Alexis is worlds more interesting than most bachelors in Schitt's Creek, Twyla still wants to ground their day in some trappings of normalcy. So, once they've each taken a few bites of their respective treats, she asks, because she doesn't actually know, "What kind of music do you like, Alexis?"

"I'd say a little bit of everything modern, outside of country." She sticks her tongue out and shakes her head as Twyla laughs and says, "I'm with you on that one."

Alexis continues, "Lately I've been into Mac Miller, Beach House, Tennis, Carly Rae Jepsen, and Local Natives. If you're on Spotify, I can totally share a playlist with you," she offers.

"That would be nice," Twyla answers just before she holds out her ice cream cone. "Wanna try some of the caramel cookie crunch? Make sure you get some of the chocolate cookie pieces and a little of the caramel swirl in your bite."

Alexis nods. "That sounds delish, babe." As she takes Twyla's cone in her left hand, she proffers her own with the right. "This brown butter ice cream is incredible," she informs Twyla just before leaning forward to take another lick, and Twyla tries not to watch too closely as Alexis closes her eyes a little dreamily and smacks her lips, savoring the flavor.

"Great choice," Twyla comments once she takes a little taste.

"Same to you," Alexis replies, dabbing at the edges of her mouth with a napkin. "So, sticking on the music topic, what's the best concert you've been to? Or the most exciting?" Alexis asks.

Twyla blushes slightly. "Oh, I haven't been to very many. And I'm sure none of the ones I _have_ attended compare to, I don't know, seeing Lady Gaga in residency in Los Angeles or something like that. I'm sure you've had tons of those cool experiences."

"I have," Alexis admits before insisting, "But you have all these amazing stories, too, Twy, and I wanna hear them. Especially since we won't get interrupted by customers. It's nice to not have to share your attention."

Alexis tentatively reaches out her hand about halfway across the table and Twyla meets her there, a bit surprised at the warmth of her declaration (and the warmth of her hand), but definitely pleased, nonetheless. After a few seconds of thinking, she settles on a narrative. "As far as my most exciting concert, I'd say this random Sum 41 gig I caught in Toronto qualifies," she starts.

"Classic Canadian alt rock!" Alexis throws up devil horns and does a mini headbang and Twyla's really glad she hadn't taken a bite of ice cream, because she'd be trying to swallow it and laugh simultaneously if she had. "So, was it a good show?"

"It was definitely above average, but it was more the circumstances around the show that made it memorable," Twyla replies, and she can tell by the gleam in Alexis' eyes that she's intrigued by her turn of phrase. Alexis asks, with her hands just as much as her words, "And what were those circumstances?"

"It takes, like, two hours or so to drive to Toronto from here on a good day, and my friends and I left about two hours and ten minutes before the show started since we all had tests we couldn't afford to miss that day. This was ages ago, back when I was in college," she explains. "So we were speeding basically the entire way there, with me being the designated cop spotter."

"Ooh, look at you! Miss wild child, flying down the freeway and keeping your car away from the fuzz," Alexis comments with a grin.

"With the amount of sketchy raw milk swaps my family's gotten into here over the years, I already had plenty of experience at it," Twyla laughs.

"Good to know if I ever need to recruit someone for that role," Alexis winks. "I think my serious trouble-making days are mostly behind me, but…you never know." She lightly taps her hands on the table and wiggles her fingers before saying, "Anyway, back to your story—did you make it there on time?" she wonders.

"We did, barely," Twyla confirms. "In retrospect, showing up late would've been better on our ears. The opening act was this awful duo called the Pottymouth Sissies."

Alexis frowns. "The Pottymouth Sissies?"

Twyla grimaces. "They were garbage, played a bunch of misogynistic crap. But we arrived in time to get the free pizza that was part of the concert's promotion, so." She shrugs. "That was kinda worth it."

Twyla's sadly become accustomed to having folks ignore her stories more often than not, but Alexis seems to be drinking in her every word, keeping almost unsettlingly intense eye contact with her (save for when she's taking licks of her ice cream). She can easily testify to just how much Alexis has improved her listening skills over the years based on their interactions at the cafe—she used to be unable to go more than two or three sentences at most without interjecting to talk about herself—but Twyla didn't realize just how intense it would be to have Alexis' full attention trained on her.

" _Or just how good she looks when she's focused solely on me,"_ Twyla can't help admitting to herself. She cuts off her own story to catch a few drips of ice cream that are running over the edges of her cone and lets herself get lost in the trappings of Alexis' sordid tale of how she scored backstage passes for a Florence and the Machine concert in Australia. And if a little bit more of her P.J.'s ice cream melts than usual because her date is a bewitching story-teller, well, Twyla can live with that.

**

She breathes in the delightfully musty scent of old books—the air in most libraries always has a hint of magic, like the whimsical delights that had been included in the first Harry Potter movie.

As if she can read her date's mind, Alexis comments, "There's something so comforting about entering a library or bookstore, isn't there?"

"Yeah," Twyla agrees, and she finally figures out how to articulate something she's always felt, but never been able to properly explain before. "I think it's because there's nearly always books you've read before or books you love in them. So going into one always feels a little bit like coming home."

Alexis stares at her for a second, and Twyla worries, _"I'm too much of a nerd for her. Like I am for most people around Schitt's Creek."_

But then Alexis answers, with a smile, "That's a beautiful sentiment, Twy."

"Thanks," she answers, blushing a little before Alexis asks, "Do you come here often?"

"Here and there. It's a bit nicer than the one we've got in town. Have you visited it?"

Alexis shakes her head. "God, I think the last time I was at a library was during my boarding school days in Switzerland. We always called the library Club Grasselli. Because there was a secret speakeasy hidden in the basement," Alexis explains, as if having an underground bar in a library is a totally normal feature at every school. "But even outside that space, it was so big that staff couldn't keep an eye on the entire building, so, umm…" she's wearing one of her devil-may-care grins and it's so charming, so damn alluring, that Twyla finds herself holding her breath a little, waiting for the climax of the story. "It was sorta one of the go-to makeout spots on campus," Alexis tells her in a hushed voice.

"I take it you spent some time there?" Twyla manages to parry back, despite the nervous thumping of her heart and her dry throat. She mostly doesn't want to hear about Alexis' past sexual entanglements.

" _But part of you does,"_ her mind whispers.

Since then she can write herself into the story with some juicy details. She can learn about whether Alexis is the kind of woman who'd rather steer someone up against a stack of books to make out with them or be the one getting pushed there themselves. About whether a kiss with Alexis would start off passionately or slowly build up heat over time.

" _These are completely random, entirely hypothetical questions, of course,"_ Twyla lies to herself.

"I _may_ have done so," Alexis concedes with a grin. "It was always more fun with girls than with guys. The guys were just _so_ obvious about it. How guys always are when they want to fool around."

Twyla thinks about letting the sentence hang there, since they could be approaching dangerous territory. But she likes that edge that Alexis offers, so instead, she nods and voices her agreement. "Yeah. Guys think they're smooth, but they don't have any finesse."

Alexis claps her hands together quietly and cheers, "You're so right, Twy! Whereas the girls I kissed would actually want to, like, converse and maybe check out some books and we'd sort of gradually establish why we were really there. I almost got busted for being a bit too invested in kissing, if you catch my drift," she giggles.

Twyla steers the conversation away from that topic, though she wants to explore it. "Do you ever reflect on your past self's life choices and feel kind of amazed at your own brave stupidity? But then you also wanna shake past you for being so irresponsible?" she asks.

"Yup," Alexis nods seriously. "I swiped a Picasso from the Thyssen-Boremisza in Madrid on a dare once during this ritzy after-hours party and I don't know what possessed me to behave so recklessly."

Twyla frowns at the anecdote; she'd been thinking more along the lines of drunken hookups or eating one too many pot brownies in terms of regrettable behavior. "Are...are you saying you've committed high-level art theft, Alexis?"

"No, not really, since it was a counterfeit," Alexis comments, like that makes it better, as she waves off Twyla's concern. "Now, I wanna hear what youthful indiscretions you've indulged, Miss Sands."

"Ok," she nods, thinking it over for a second before she hits on a story. "So, back in my college days, my friend Lindsey invited me to come visit her at the University of Toronto for some big party. Which was fine, you know, it was fun. Pretty run of the mill. Cheap beer, loud music, too many obnoxious drunk guys. But afterwards…"

She pauses and grins as Alexis perks up at the hook in her story, then continues, "We were on the way back to her dorm and Lindsey told me she'd gotten the keys to the gym off an intramurals manager she vaguely knew who was trying to impress her."

Alexis leans against her as they walk toward the historical fiction section and says, in a sing-song voice, "I think I know where this is going." She waggles her eyebrows at Twyla and asks, "A little late night B & E?"

"Yeah," Twyla confirms, "we went up to the roof for the late night, early morning view and smoked weed there."

"Twyla Sands!" Alexis gasps, her eyes popping wide in surprise at her story, to Twyla's delight. "Who knew Schitt's Creek's sweetheart was such a rebel once upon a time. I had no idea I'd be dancing with the devil when I agreed to our date!"

"I don't think I'd go that far," Twyla chuckles, but her cheeks still flush pink at what she perceives is a compliment. "And it was a long time ago."

"Still, when you're a little bit of a rascal, that kind of sticks to you, like caramel in your teeth," Alexis notes, and while that's one of her classic weird similes, Twyla agrees, "I suppose you can say that."

Alexis continues, in that silky-soft tone, "I just think it's way easier to be on your best behavior when you haven't felt the rush from crossing to the other side of the line. When you aren't aware of what you're missing when you misbehave on purpose, you know?"

"Ye-yeah," Twyla gulps, almost audibly, because she's pretty sure she's getting a very real education in the finer points of how Alexis might seduce a woman into making out with her in a library.

But then Alexis suddenly chirps, "Do you want to check out what new fiction they have here? And, also, like, where would we go to do that?"

"New fiction is towards the front of the building," Twyla stammers, trying to recover from the whiplash brought on by the sudden change of subject, by the transition from sultry to sweet. And, clearly, she'll need to figure out how to navigate the multifaceted angles of Alexis' personality if she wants to go on another date with her.

" _Which I do,"_ Twyla thinks. _"I'm just not sure if Alexis wants a second date."_

It's almost more of a friend date, at points, than a romantic one, but Twyla doesn't mind it, honestly. Getting to know Alexis outside the confines of the cafe is a trip. She's low-key an expert on 20th century British and Russian lit, mostly because "you've gotta have literature that you can really dig into metaphorically to endure kidnappings and hostage situations, Twy."

"So, I was thinking," Alexis announces as they pull into the motel parking lot. Twyla had registered a spark of hope in her stomach at the way the two of them casually held hands over the gear stick during most of the drive back to Schitt's Creek, and now Alexis is doing that thing where her hands flit around and she tugs and twirls a strand of her hair. Twyla tries not to grin too eagerly because those are a couple of Alexis' biggest flirting tells.

"What about?" Twyla asks.

"There's apparently a new club that opened in Elmdale recently and, like, I think it could make a cool second date spot?" Alexis ventures, then adds, "If you wanna go. Go out. With me. Again." She laughs a little wildly, "Sorry, I'm normally way more coherent than this, I swear."

"You don't need to apologize, Alexis. That sounds like fun and I'd love to go with you," Twyla answers. "I think it'll be a sight nicer than the Wobbly Elm."

She's sorely tempted to add, _"I'm glad to know I can fluster you,"_ but she's not quite that courageous.

"That's what I figured!" Alexis exclaims before adding, "Nothing against the Wobbly Elm, I get that it's an institution here, but, like...yeah." She pulls Twyla in for a tight hug, and it's not that Twyla's a creep or anything, it's just that they're pressed close together, so she can't exactly help but pick up on the delightful notes of honeysuckle and vanilla in Alexis' perfume.

"Thanks for today, Twy," Alexis murmurs.

"Thanks for agreeing to join me," Twyla whispers into the crook of her neck.

"It was my pleasure. I'll see you next Saturday, then!" Alexis calls as she opens the door to her and David's room, and Twyla registers, with a grin, that it's a statement, not a question.

"Yep! We can figure out details during the week when you come by the cafe," Twyla responds, waving back before Alexis shuts the door.

**

This is the first time in a while Twyla's genuinely excited about a second date, not just dredging up or faking a sense of anticipation out of an obligation to be nice.

That anticipation swells when she receives an unexpected call from Alexis late Saturday afternoon.

"Hey, you," Twyla answers. Normally, when she gets a call from someone who's supposed to be going on a date with her that night, she expects a cancellation, with a side order of a lame excuse, but she's not too worried about that with Alexis, for some reason.

"Hey, Twy. I was wondering, do you know what you're wearing for our date tonight?"

"I'm still at work, so I haven't really thought that far ahead," she replies.

"Okay. Well, if you'd want to come over for, like, an outfit hunt through my closet, you'd be more than welcome. Only if you want to. Totally up to you."

She low-key loves how transparently Alexis wants this fashionista night to happen, and answers with a smile, "Sure. That sounds awesome. I've got some customers here, so I gotta go, but I'll see you later tonight."

"Yay!" Alexis trills. "Bye, Twy."

She tries to pin her grin down to avoid looking too dopey in front of the family of three that's just arrived in the cafe.

She arrives at the motel a bit before 8 and is finds both David and Alexis in their shared room.

"Twyla," he says, and while his voice is warm, he delivers the greeting with a pointed smile. "I hope you're ready for a night full of dancing, as my sister has been unable to talk of much else for this past week."

"I am," she nods, willing herself to not blush too furiously as Alexis murmurs under her breath in a sing-song voice, "Shut up, David."

His smile transforms into a smirk as he turns it to his sister. "What? I'm sure our dear Twyla's ears have been burning something fierce," he remarks innocently.

"Remind me why you and Patrick were both in the back of the store, leaving the front of the house completely devoid of any employee presence when I visited earlier this week?" she asks back, eyes wide in a display of false naivete.

Twyla makes a show of dropping her purse and ducking to retrieve it to avoid revealing how hard she's giggling as David retorts, "Excuse me, which one of us is the successful small business owner in the family?"

"And which one of us is going to see their business partner at 8:00 on a Saturday night?" Alexis answers smoothly, putting exaggerated air quotes around the phrase "business partner."

"Mmm, drink expired pickle juice," he responds to Alexis on his way out, then turns back to her guest and exclaims, "Hope you have a fabulous night out clubbing, Twyla!"

"Thank you, David," she says warmly while Alexis chirps at him, "Go swallow a thumbtack."

"Where do you two come up with these insults?" Twyla asks with a bemused shake of her head.

"Mom's soaps had a lot of interesting ones and I think we just started channeling them," she shrugs. "Plus she can throw out some pretty creative put-downs herself. But enough about that," she claps her hands. "Fashion time!"

"Fashion time," Twyla agrees, with a touch of uncertainty, because she's not any kind of an expert.

Luckily, she has Alexis to take the lead. "So, what kind of vibe are you looking to cultivate tonight, babe?"

"What kind of vibe am I...I'm sorry, what do you mean, Alexis?" she frowns.

"Here, let me give you an example," she replies. "My vibe is gonna be more laid-back. Still fun, of course, but in a way that says, I'm here to party, not, I'm here to _party_. Call it night out casual," she guesses. "But in a way that will still catch your eye," she winks. "Does that help?"

Twyla nods. "Yeah, thanks. So I think my vibe would be kind of similar." Imitating Alexis, she continues, "I'd like to get dressed up, but not _dressed up_. In something that's...upscale chill?" she half-asks, because what the fuck do those words even mean, but Alexis nods confidently and says, "I can work with that," and maybe Twyla's not so bad at this fashion stuff after all.

She tacks on, "And could you pick something you think would look good on me? Something that you'd like to see me wear," she clarifies.

Alexis nods again. "I can totally do that, Twy, thanks for your input! Plus, I mean, look at you. The yoga and running are doing your figure all kinds of favors," Alexis notes, then highlights, with both her hands and her eyes, "You've got a lean waist, lithe limbs—and check out the toned definition in your arms."

She reaches out to squeeze her bicep. "Damn, Twy! Let's find something to accentuate," she flits her hands around Twyla, "all this, in an outfit that's upscale chill and," Twyla's definitely not imagining the way Alexis' voice drops, "captivating to me."

"O-okay," she stammers, because being on the receiving end of that many Alexis compliments in a row is enough to fry anyone's brain.

 _"And the thought of being captivating to Alexis Rose is something else, too,"_ she whispers to herself.

"I think I've got just the thing." Alexis flicks through her considerable collection of party dresses and pulls out a light green, shimmery, sleeveless dress with a low cut back and a scoop neckline. "I figured this style is pretty similar to a lot of the dresses you wear at work. It's definitely made for more of a night out, but it's not crazy formal or too slinky," she explains. "So if you wanna just get changed here, I'm gonna go finish my makeup in the bathroom and throw my dress on."

"Sure," Twyla nods, taking the proffered outfit and changing into it. She has no idea how Alexis' brain conducts such thorough fashion analysis so quickly, but her choice is a winner. Twyla likes how the dress is form-fitting without being too tight, how it hugs her curves without accentuating her body so much that she'll get loads of unwanted attention from guys.

The only person she wants attention from tonight is Alexis.

She gets it once Alexis comes out of the bathroom, gives her a once over that turns into a twice over, followed by a low whistle and a murmur of, "I knew you'd look good in that dress, but you're absolutely rocking it, babe." Twyla expects that will be all, but then Alexis adds, "The color brings out this vibrancy in your eyes, too. You won't need too much makeup. Not that you need it at all, really. Just a little touch here or there to make you an absolute vision."

And just like that, Twyla's addicted to Alexis' attention, clinging to her compliments like they're catnip, and it takes her a couple of tries to get a simple "thank you" out.

She finally, really takes in Alexis' outfit, too—a simple midnight blue dress. For most women in Schitt's Creek, it would be something to wear in a wedding party. For Alexis, it's almost a downright demure choice. The silver belt cinched around her waist suggests something of the stars in the night sky to Twyla, and she wants to say something to that approximate effect.

There are plenty of easy words of adulation to offer Alexis—gorgeous, breathtaking, and stunning all come to mind—but she's probably heard them all before, more times than she can count. Twyla wants her praise to be an unexpected present.

Twyla trips into the winning phrase. "You look like that flighty temptress, adventure."

Alexis stands a mite straighter at that and preens for Twyla, musing, "I like the sound of that."

The makeup Alexis adds is, as promised, fairly minimal, but its effects are not. Twyla's sometimes felt as if she's a background character in her own life, but Alexis helps her become a more forceful protagonist. One who actively takes up space and pursues who and what she wants.

They link pinkies and then clasp hands on the walk out to Twyla's car, and Alexis tells her, "Patrick told me the club is super inclusive."

"I'm glad to hear that," Twyla nods, then tells herself, _"Be bold,"_ and tosses in a follow-up point, as casually as possible, saying, "Especially since I'm planning to dance the night away with this blonde who's just absolutely ravishing."

"Are you, now?" Alexis teases, and she doesn't let go of Twyla's hand over the gear shift at all after that.

It's probably lame to notice something like that, Twyla reflects. But it's also kind of impossible not to notice everything about Alexis.

**

Despite Twyla and Alexis' attempts to keep a firm grip on each other's hands while navigating the club, an overzealous pack of dancers separates them and Twyla ends up at the bar before Alexis. She hears a shout of "Jack and Coke" and half of a frustrated huff from Alexis as she tries to work around the mass of bodies.

As Twyla orders the drink, plus a gin and tonic for herself, some guy comes up to her wearing an overly aggressive smile and asks, in what he clearly thinks is a winning voice, "What's a pretty thing like you doing here all by herself?"

She's about to answer, "I'm not," when Alexis worms her way through the crowd, and Twyla widens her eyes at her in a silent plea for help.

"Hey," Alexis murmurs, leaning in close to her, acting like the guy hitting on Twyla doesn't exist. "I just wanted to let you know, I've been watching you all night, and you are looking _so_ fine."

Twyla registers that this is just a game, just Alexis' way of helping her ditch this rando, but that doesn't stop her from feeling like she did the first time Alexis dropped these lines on her. Like she could get lost in those massive green eyes, like she could spend a few minutes or a few hours wandering around in snippets of the worlds, the stories Alexis shares with her. Like Alexis' presence can leave her absolutely breathless.

Alexis steps closer to her to say, "And I would like nothing more than to get a drink with you. Especially since it looks like you already know my favorite order, Miss…?"

It takes Twyla a beat to realize Alexis is still playing a game, that she actually has to play a role in it, too. In the brief patch of silence, the guy next to her protests, "Hey, I was gonna buy her something," but Twyla ignores him and keeps her eyes focused entirely on Alexis' flawlessly made face as she answers, "Miss Sands." She gently clasps Alexis' hand and it feels a little like they're royalty when she replies, in her best imitation of Alexis' effortless sensuality, "I'm charmed to make your acquaintance and glad to know your drinking pleasure, Miss…?"

" _For once it pays to be a waitress,"_ Twyla thinks as she reaches back for Alexis' glass without looking, grabs it, and smoothly passes it to her.

"Miss Rose," Alexis replies, giving Twyla her trademark flirty wink as she sips her Jack and Coke.

The guy sees it's a lost cause and leaves, dejected, and Alexis immediately takes his place.

Twyla nods her thanks over the music, half-shouts, "You're really good at," she makes an Alexis type gesture, "you know. Interfering with guys. I don't know if I'd have the guts to do that."

"It's low-stakes, in a way, compared to foreign kidnappings and whatnot," Alexis answers with a wave of her hand. "But in another way, it's not, since I don't want guys to look at you the way I do."

"And what way is that?" Twyla banters back. She's buzzing off the excitement of their game, of Alexis admitting she just might reciprocate her own feelings. The gin and tonic doesn't hurt, either.

She's not totally surprised when Alexis answers, with a smirk, "Stick with me and you'll find out, Twy. And for now, if you wanna stick with me, you'll have to get up and boogie!" So saying, Alexis alights from her bar stool and leads Twyla out onto the floor.

"Can I tell you something lame?" Alexis asks, a bit shyly, as the song fades out.

"Course, Alexis," Twyla nods.

"I sometimes struggle with knowing exactly how to invite gorgeous girls to dance with me. So I decided to skip the asking part," she confesses as she spins Twyla in close to her. "Hope that's alright with you, Twy."

Twyla's dizzy with desire and it has nothing to do with the twirl she just pulled off. She shuffles a step to the side, leans back toward her dance partner, and confirms, with the most beguiling smile she can offer, "Absolutely, Alexis."

"Good," she hums back, maintaining a loose grip on Twyla's hips, holding her close but not too close.

It's Twyla's turn to be unsure of how to ask Alexis to dance with her the way she wants. With a little more physicality. With a little more risk.

" _Maybe I don't need to use words,"_ she realizes as she lifts her arms up and sways back and forth a little to some house remix of a pop song she doesn't know.

She glances back at Alexis for a second to make sure she won't accidentally clock her with an elbow, then stretches her right arm out, angles it behind Alexis' head, and rakes her fingers through her hair. The music is still pounding, but she thrills when she hears Alexis gasp at the move.

Feeling bolder still, she runs her nails down the side of Alexis' neck to her bare right shoulder, squeezes it, and asks coquettishly, "This ok, babe?"

"Yeah," she nods, a touch dreamily. "More than ok."

And she responds by pressing her hands a little more insistently against Twyla's thighs, pressing their bodies closer, and Twyla reflexively rolls her hips into Alexis.

Turns out that dancing the night away together—or really, grinding the night away together—is more than ok for both of them, too.

**

They end up leaving the club a bit after 11, and while neither of them are anywhere close to drunk, their tipsy giddiness spills over in singalongs galore, and to Alexis introducing Twyla to the eclectic mess that is her Spotify account.

As they near the motel, Twyla's kinda surprised at the hazy, distorted guitar riff coming through the speakers. She's even more surprised at the raw, unrestrained power in Alexis' voice as she belts out the song's opening lyrics over a massive, wailing wall of synths in the background, singing,

_I can only stare_

_Into the field for so long_

_I can only stare_

_Into the field for so long_

Twyla covers for her shock, asking, "Who is this?"

"Sleigh Bells," Alexis answers promptly. "They're, like, sugar cookie sweet in some songs and all dark and goth in others."

Alexis directs her singing toward the windshield to start, but Twyla can sense that she's turned toward her, almost delivering the lyrics like a suggestion as they pull into the motel's parking lot:

_You and I, you and I_

_Why aren't we sharing a breath_

_Til there's nothing left_

_But carbon dioxide?_

_Why won't ya let me come over,_

_And do what you want me to?_

This is either a pointed message or a happy accident of a song shuffle, because the song's chorus speaks to Twyla's normal contentment to go with the flow:

_I can only stare, I can only stare_

_(You see it's pullin my heart down, it's pullin my heart down)_

_I can only stare, I can only stare_

_(You see it's pullin my heart down, it's pullin my heart down)_

_I'd like to go back there, but I can't,_

_I can only stare, I can only…_

_I'd like to go back there, but I can't,_

_I can only stare, I can only stare_

Twyla's spent long enough staring and has swallowed down her desires too many times, like medicine, or maybe poison, but she's not letting this one pass her by. She hesitates for a fraction of an instant after she surges toward Alexis, wanting confirmation that what she's about to do is okay (or more than okay, ideally).

Alexis whispers, " _Yes_ , Twy," as the singer's voice gives way to a soaring instrumental part and Twyla's finally experiencing the all-consuming, blistering bliss that is an Alexis Rose kiss, the feeling of Alexis' well-defined jaw cupped in her hand. Twyla's already nearly moaning into Alexis' mouth because _goddamn_ , does she ever know how to use those lips, tender and scorching all at once, beautiful and deadly like a rosy bloom of blood rising off a bullet wound in someone's chest. Twyla worries for a second that Alexis is less into it, that she's only humoring her, but when they first break apart, Alexis stares at her lips for a second and then lunges hungrily back for seconds, releasing a half-broken sigh from her lungs that seems to signify, _"I was waiting for this."_

Twyla goes for a little more of an open-mouth kiss on their third attempt, openly moaning as Alexis swipes her tongue into her mouth because she tastes like whiskey and adventure and—

"Come home with me," Twyla murmurs against Alexis' lips seconds after their fifth frantic kiss fractures; it's more than a little scary that she didn't plan that, that she can't say for sure if it's a questioning invitation or a statement, a command. Twyla's worrying that maybe it was a little too soon to present that offer when Alexis replies, in a near-perfect match to her own tone, but with a confidence that's bordering on an unbearably sexy cockiness, "You want me to. You _want_ _me_."

"Yes," Twyla answers instantly, as if her kisses can't speak for themselves, and then, because she thinks she already knows how to get Alexis going, corrects herself and whispers forcefully, " _Fuck_ yes."

Alexis' eyes pop at the shocking obscenity and it takes a ton of willpower for Twyla to not destroy the sex appeal she's built up by giggling, but then Alexis asks coyly, "Do you swear in bed, too, Twy?"

Twyla giggles despite herself, then puts on her best Alexis smirk in return. "You'll just have to find out, won't you?"

"Absolutely," Alexis purrs. "Now, if you don't mind, can I just grab some clothes and stuff for this rendezvous? I'm kinda over the days of recycling my outfits from the night before during the morning after, you know?"

"Sure, go right ahead," Twyla nods, then frowns for a second. "Isn't David home, though?"

"Yeah, but—" Alexis shrugs, blushes, and gives a dismissive wave as she exits the car and starts walking toward her room. "He already knows I'm crazy for you, so he probably won't tease me too much. Be right back." Alexis pauses, turns back, and blows Twyla a kiss.

It takes Twyla way, way too long to wipe the dopey grin off her face while she's waiting for Alexis to gather her things.

**

As it turns out, "Alexis' things" includes a pared-down selection of nighttime skin creams and serums that still dwarfs Twyla's collection.

It feels weirdly intimate to see Alexis like this, with a face free of makeup, decked out in an old orange Chicago Bears t-shirt and sweatpants. To see that she's not always a whirlwind.

Their earlier excitement's gone a touch dormant, though they've kept trading kisses off and on, and Twyla would be disappointed, except...

"Do you mind if we just call it a night and go to sleep, Alexis? I feel bad," Twyla admits, barely stifling a yawn, "like I might've lured you here under false pretenses, almost. It's just…" she stretches out like a cat. "I'm pretty exhausted."

"Same here, I can't go all night like I used to. Believe me, I want to. I want _you_ ," Alexis reassures her, but she's yawning, too. "Not that there's any pressure or timeframe for us doing anything more, I'm all about enthusiastic consent from both parties in a relationship. But—"

Twyla's learning, quite quickly, that kissing Alexis is by far the most delightful way to silence her when she starts rambling.

"I know what you mean, babe," Twyla soothes her, pulling her in for a hug and a forehead kiss just before she gets settled in bed. "I feel the same. Like, I want you, but I'm also dead tired. _Someone_ kept me out on the dance floor all night."

Alexis parries back, "Someone _else_ knows how to grind up on a girl and drive her a little wild."

Twyla grins through her yawn and murmurs, "Didn't hear you complaining at the club."

"I've got no complaints at all when I'm with you, Twy," Alexis whispers, and it's honestly the best thing she could ask to hear before she conks out.

**

"Morning, you," Alexis murmurs, stretching out and rolling onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow.

"Morning, Lex," Twyla whispers, loving the new sound of the nickname coming off her tongue. Loving that she has Alexis Rose in her bed, all to herself, on a day off. Twyla's usually pretty selfless, but she's not sharing Alexis with anyone for at least a little while longer.

" _It's a nice change of pace from having to either sneak out of some rando's apartment or having to boot them out of here so I can get ready to go to work,"_ she reflects as she rolls out of bed and quietly traipses out of her room to the bathroom so she can splash some water on her face and brush her teeth.

Her clock says it's only around 8:18, and she has nowhere to be today, so she snuggles back under the blankets and falls into that space halfway between sleep and wakefulness.

She slowly comes to, out of her slumber, and registers Alexis has slung an arm partially across her shoulder.

"You awake now?" Alexis asks, and Twyla realizes she must've gotten out of bed at some point, too, because her breath is minty-fresh.

"Mmhmm," Twyla nods, coiling herself in closer to Alexis' grasp, and Alexis takes advantage of it to lift the hair of the back of her neck, to press kisses to the nape of her neck before sucking gently on her earlobe.

Twyla can't even try to form words right now and just grinds back into Alexis in a coda to their night out as Alexis purrs into her ear, "It's been a while since I've slept with a woman, and I'm worried I'm a little out of practice. So I might have to focus some _extra_ special attention on you, Twy, if that's okay?"

"Definitely. And have I mentioned before that you should really come with a warning sign?" Twyla answers back as she rolls over so they can swap slow, lazy kisses. "Something that says, flirting with Alexis Rose may be hazardous for your health."

"You'd still do it anyway, though. Wouldn't you?" Alexis' sweet smile suggests she could just be helping Moira organize her expansive wig collection or steering Johnny through another motel rollout and the incongruities, the complexities that make her up, might just drive Twyla mad.

Pretty much everyone else in her family is already nuts, though, and getting driven to mild insanity by Alexis Rose seems like the best way to arrive there, all things considered.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Twyla answers seconds before tugging Alexis in for a hotter kiss that tastes like Crest and feels like sky-diving.

"Ok, you swearing in bed? Definite turn on," Alexis confirms, with repeated nods, once they break apart.

"Make me swear more, then," Twyla challenges her breathlessly and okay, she's _definitely_ losing her mind because that line sounds like something straight out of a bad porn movie. Plus, she's almost never that forthright, that frank, about what she wants, but she'd been stuck in that stage of wanting for _so long_ with Alexis that she might just be subconsciously tossing out her norms of sexual engagement.

She can feel herself turning beet red and she's about to apologize when Alexis practically pounces on her, with a kiss so strong it's nearly an attack on her mouth.

"Sorry," Alexis apologizes quickly as she pulls back a touch. "It's just—women being aggressive with me is usually one of my kinks anyway, but coming from you—" she gathers herself with a spasming breath and tenderly strokes Twyla's cheek with a trembling hand. She could be blown glass in this moment, ready for Twyla to magnificently break her apart.

"I want _more_ of that," Alexis breathes out. "Can you do that for me, Twy?"

Twyla's hard pressed to say whether she's more aroused or frightened. Hell, being a tiny bit afraid of Alexis might be a factor behind why she feels so turned on in this moment.

She's never had anyone outright ask her to be aggressive in bed before.

But then, she's never had anyone like Alexis Rose in her bed before, either.

So what's she supposed to do, besides say yes?

She doesn't actually get the words out, but she remembers how long she'd wanted this, how promising their two dates have been, how Alexis' obvious talent for kissing might bode well for other activities, and suddenly she's nodding in response to Alexis' question and returning her earlier combative kiss with interest, making Alexis sink into the mattress.

" _Yes_ , Twy," Alexis groans, egging her on, and Twyla knows exactly how to respond, planting kisses from Alexis' cheek to her jaw to her ear to whisper into it, "You fuckin like when I play with you this way, Lex?"

She feels Alexis nod firmly against her and gasp out, _"Yes,"_ again in that wonderful, wrecked tone before she somehow explains further. "I don't know exactly what it is, but I've always been more submissive with women. Not, like, all the time, but more often than I am with guys. I think it's because my first woman crush was Dana Scully?" she hypothesizes. "And, like, Gillian Anderson could step on my throat with a stiletto heel and I'd thank her for it."

Twyla doubles over in a fit of silent giggles because who else on planet Earth would ever construct that series of sentences besides Alexis Rose?

"But with you, it's just…" Alexis shakes her head. "I don't know," she repeats. "Letting you be in control for some of whatever we're doing feels right."

"I'm near the middle of the whole passive vs. aggressive or dominant vs. submissive scale overall, but I definitely have more submissive tendencies," Twyla agrees. "But with you…" she repeats Alexis' line and shoots her a wicked grin. "It's like you've unlocked this wolf in me or something to come out to play. And I want you as my prey, babe."

Alexis' eyebrows vanish into her hairline and her mouth open and closes uselessly a few times before she groans, " _Jesus,_ Twy! You tell me you're usually more submissive in one breath and then call me _your prey_ in the next? Which, by the way, that's hot as fuck," she adds, and Twyla knows her cheeks are burning crimson.

"I swear, I really don't know what I'm doing," Twyla shakes her head with a laugh. "But I like doing whatever it is we're doing together. You're a ton of fun to be around, Alexis," she says. "Plus you're clever, hard-working, passionate, and daring," she adds, loving how Alexis brightens up at the additional compliments. "And even though my invitation for you to come home with me was sort of impulsive, it wasn't just predicated on sex or physical stuff."

"I'm not sure what exactly I did to get tangled up with someone so kind and warm and generous, but I'll take it," Alexis answers. "Thanks for giving me a second chance, or eight, to be a better version of myself. I couldn't have done it without you, Twy," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And sorry for sort of derailing all the sexual tension just now."

Twyla shrugs. "If you can't laugh or talk or joke with the person you're in bed with, you probably shouldn't be in bed with them at all."

Alexis raises an invisible glass for a toast and calls, "Well said, hon!" before pulling her back in for a leisurely kiss, and then it's two, then three, and then they're making out again and Alexis whispers, in that bewitchingly vague, meandering way she tells all of her stories, full to the brim with eye contact and fluttering hand gestures, "So about that sexual tension. I really need you to take your pajama shirt off for me, Twy, because I couldn't help but notice last night that your tits looked fucking fantastic. And I just wanna, like, confirm that observation."

"I will if you will," Twyla shoots back, and she's kind of starting to live for these almost campy, shocked looks Alexis gives her when she's surprised by her flirting ability.

"Seriously, when did you get this much game, babe?!" she asks incredulously.

Twyla grins. "Maybe I learned some tricks from Schitt's Creek's favorite socialite," she teases.

"Well, they're clearly working," Alexis hums, and Twyla murmurs against her lips, "You'll really convince me they're working if you strip your top off right. fucking. now."

She does, and Twyla's still definitely bi, but she'll happily concede that boobs are way better and worlds more satisfying to ogle than dicks. And if this is what Alexis' extra-special attention is like, she's going to find it damn near impossible to do anything but keep it for herself.

Alexis might've said she had submissive tendencies with women, but with the way she's branding Twyla's body with kisses galore and grabby hands, that seems wonderfully false. Twyla even manages to banter, "Thought you wanted me in charge," with a gasp as Alexis presses kisses to her throat, to the sensitive hollow of her neck, to her collarbones and shoulders.

"It's not my fault you're irresistible," Alexis answers with a hint of a pout, her eyes flickering down to her breasts. "Besides, I love giving pleasure just as much as getting it. Now, any preferences between licking, sucking, or biting, in terms of me playing with your boobs?"

She presents the options with Twyla's practiced ease of rattling off soups of the day at the cafe and she has to clap a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing. She gathers herself just long enough to say, "Dealer's choice. Just start off gentle, please."

Alexis gives her a serious nod and a promise of, "Of course, darling."

Twyla registers, _"I like how much we use terms of endearment with each other now,"_ and then nearly blacks out for a bit after that, because Alexis is practically worshipping her breasts with her mouth. And getting a sense of just how talented she is at using her tongue for things besides kissing sends a flood of other obscene images rushing through her mind.

Alexis is staring at her, staring through her, with a smoldering gaze as she moves her way down Twyla's body, dropping kisses to her navel, grinding her chest in between Twyla's legs to offer her some desperately needed friction, and she wants what she thinks Alexis is offering to do for her.

Just not at this very moment. Maybe later.

" _Maybe even another time,"_ she lets herself consider hopefully.

Remembering what Alexis said about wanting her to be in control, she offers up a command with as much sensuality and kindness as she can offer, murmuring, "Come kiss your way back up to my face, Lex."

Alexis gives one of her eyebrows a bit of a confused quirk as she follows Twyla's instructions—follows them _perfectly_ , if you ask her—then asks a tiny bit later, "Did you not want me to go down on you? I'm sorry, I totally should've asked—"

"I _do_ want that, it's just—I wanna be able to kiss you during our first time," she blurts out, wincing a little at exposing her romantic side to someone she's been on all of two dates with, but then Alexis lets out this pleased little sigh and half-shivers, half-melts in her arms, and Twyla's anxiety melts away, too.

"You're sweet, babe. But not too sweet," Alexis whispers.

Twyla frowns. "What's that mean?"

Alexis' grin reminds her of a shark smelling blood in the water. "I can tell you've got bad intentions for me. And I want to see and taste and feel more of them."

"You do, Alexis? Is that a promise?" she drawls.

"Abso-fucking-lutely, Twy. Pinky promise," she adds, offering out her finger to clinch it. "That's some serious shit."

"Okay," Twyla nods, giggles as they link fingers. Then, she whispers to herself, _"She did say she wants you to be more aggressive,"_ and pins Alexis down on her bed for a second so she can get on top of her. She adds some teeth to her next kiss for good measure, sucking Alexis' lower lip into her mouth as she rocks into her. She can feel herself slipping away, sinking deeper into lust, deeper into Alexis with every instant their hips roll together, and it's somehow tender, too, the way they study each others' bodies like they've got stardust from the night before inscribed on their skin.

Twyla's not sure just what the two of them are, exactly, but this is assuredly something more than a normal Schitt's Creek hookup—guys lack Alexis' patience to get to sex, as well as her focus on maximizing Twyla's pleasure with kisses and touches and dirty talk and a well-placed bite or two—so she murmurs, against the thrum of Alexis' pulse point in her neck, "I wish I would've been brave enough to tell you how gorgeous you are sooner, Alexis. Inside and out."

She nearly gasps when she feels the blood rush and then Alexis answers, with equal fervor, "I wish I would've had more courage, too. Once I sorta got my shit together and stopped being such a terrible human being. I mean, Mutt was fun, and Ted was great, but you're—you're on a whole other level. And, like, hello, check you out," Alexis murmurs, blushing as she stares hungrily. Twyla turns to gape at her—and at her body, again, because _damn_ she's the best looking woman in town by a country mile and a half—and Alexis gives a little giggle. "Why do you think I started coming to the cafe _every day_ , babe? Remember, the first eight months or so we were in town, I only stopped by a couple times a week?"

"You _did_ ," Twyla recalls with surprise, and she's about to say more, but then Alexis is pulling her down into a devilishly divine makeout session and she might be telepathic because she confesses, "We can talk more about this later, but I'm super wet and I kinda really, really need to get off. And to get you off."

Twyla grins into her next kiss. "I can get down with that."

They swap words for sounds pretty seamlessly, and Twyla gathers lots of favorites: the groan Alexis releases into her shoulder when she starts fingering her, and the guttural moans she offers when Twyla curls her fingers back inside her, and the way she cries out, " _Yes_ , Twy," into the crook of her neck in a fever pitch when she can't hold on anymore.

Twyla normally feels a little self-conscious about making too much noise herself during sex, but she lets her pleasure ring out like a solo when Alexis goes down on her, releasing a blend of profanity and words of encouragement she can't even complete and, at the end, just stupidly delirious cries, over and over, of _AlexisAlexisAlexisAlexis_ , followed by the filthiest moan that's ever exited her mouth when she tastes herself in Alexis' kiss, on her lips, on her tongue.

She loves more than just the sex, though. She loves how their ragged breathing slows in unison, how it sounds like their heartbeats sync up when she rests her head on Alexis' chest for a bit while they take a mini power nap.

More than anything, Twyla loves the sense that they've got something to offer each other, like she's just pulled the Ace of Cups to speak to their romantic potential.

" _I don't want to jinx it,"_ she muses as they wake up to start their day again, _"but this feels like something good. Something right. Something real."_

**

That feeling is only solidified when the two of them start making pancakes for breakfast and Twyla comments, a little hesitantly, "I've got kind of a semantic question for you, Alexis."

"Shoot," she responds while she's slicing up a banana.

"Is this—like, making breakfast together—our third date? Or just an extension of the second one?" Twyla wonders.

"You know, I'm actually not sure," she admits as she sprinkles a handful of chocolate chips into one of her pancake batter blobs on the griddle. "Actually, no, wait, I'd say our third date would be you inviting me back here last night after we went out, since that wasn't part of our plan initially. So our next date will be the fourth one."

"N-next date?" Twyla stammers.

"Yeah," Alexis nods encouragingly before a smudge of worry creases across her forehead like a rain cloud. "Unless you don't—"

"No, I do," Twyla interrupts her quickly, ignoring the pancakes for a second. "I want a fourth, fifth, and sixth date with you, Lex. For starters, at least. It's just sometimes a little hard to believe you wanna pick me, I guess."

"Well, start believing it, girlfriend," Alexis replies with a grin before she claps her hands to her mouth. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I—I meant to, like, _ask_ you about that, not just—"

Twyla grins back at her easily and comes up with what she hopes is an appropriate response. "So," she flips over Alexis' two pancakes, ignores her distress for a second, then continues, "does _my girlfriend_ want whipped cream on top of her pancakes today, or nah?"

"Twy!" Alexis squeals before squeezing the breath out of her lungs with a massive hug, and _that_ , she confirms to herself, is her favorite sound of the day.

Shockingly, they manage to behave themselves when they shower before Twyla drives Alexis back over to the motel. It's almost scary, how quickly she's become accustomed to the two of them traveling together like it's nothing when they'd never said "boo" to each other outside the confines of the cafe besides that one night they'd gone to the Wobbly Elm.

Except now they kiss once in a while at red lights. Or, rather, at the one traffic light in town.

"If you wanna just, like, drop me off at the edge of the parking lot, it's fine," Alexis tells her as she grabs her go-bag off the floor when Twyla pulls up at the Rosebud. "I'm sure David will want to interrogate you and I totally get it if you'd rather avoid that."

"Let him," Twyla answers cheerfully as Alexis sneaks one final quick kiss just before she parks close to their room. As expected, David emerges.

"Hi Twyla," David trills. "I do hope my dear sister hasn't been too much of a bother for you. She's usually pretty grumpy in the morning."

"Really?" Twyla grins. "That wasn't my experience."

"Hmm…" he smirks at Alexis. "Interesting. Perhaps you were able to offer her some kind of incentive for good behavior. You seem smart like that, Twy."

Alexis waves at Twyla as she gets out of the car, then rolls her eyes at David and huffs theatrically, "Ex- _cuse_ me, David, but I'd really prefer if you _didn't_ harass my girlfriend when she so graciously drove me here."

Twyla cracks up as David's eyebrows skyrocket into his hairline at his sister's announcement, and Alexis blows a kiss her way and shouts, "Bye, babe! I'll see you later."

"See you later, Alexis," Twyla promises, still laughing at the Rose siblings' double-act she backs out of the gravel driveway, and that promise will be no problem at all for her to keep.


End file.
